


Mercy-Epilogue to Mercer's Folly

by sunnyautumnmorning



Series: Mercer's Mercy [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Epilogue, F/M, Other, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 01:44:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3832447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnyautumnmorning/pseuds/sunnyautumnmorning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seventeen years have passed since the death of Gynni and Mercer Frey.<br/>Mercy and Brynjolf together discover something unusual about her...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mercy-Epilogue to Mercer's Folly

**Author's Note:**

> After much poking and prodding, this final came to the light of day. Just a thought I came up with over a cup o' tea with a pal o' mine.  
> I hope you like, drop me a line either way. sunny:)

Brynjolf turned to look at the young woman standing with the bow in her hands. He couldn’t quite decide if she looked more like her mother or her father. Aye, she had both of their personalities, but more often spoke exactly as her father had done with his cold annoying voice.  
Once, in the cistern, she had spoken in that same tone to Vipir and he answered her with a-yes Mercer, absentmindedly.  
But it was when she was in trouble and knew it that she pulled an imitation of her mother; the exact same stance that Gynni had taken; lowering of the head and then the eyes coming up to hold you in place. The same pale blue eyes of her mother's that he had lost himself in the very first time he had pushed her up against the wall near the market and kissed her lips. Gynni, he sighed deeply; he thought of her often and missed her terribly. His love for her had grown and changed over the time he had known her.  
When he realized that she had belonged to Mercer, he had shoved those feeling deep within. He had forced himself to think of her as how one would think of as a close friend and not one that you would only share your inner most thoughts and secrets with.

Seventeen years had passed since both Mercer and Gynni had gone. Seventeen years of hugs and little kisses, bedtime stories and chasing monsters out from under the bed. Seventeen years of trying to teach her how to be a lady and finally giving up. Seventeen years of broken limbs from falls out of trees and off horses, tears from a broken heart, and a good thrashing given to the one who had done that to her. Seventeen beautiful years, with the struggles they shared of her dealing with her awkwardness and the maturing of a young girl into the young woman who stood beside him.

Brynjolf loved her as if she was his own flesh and blood, fiercely protective of her.

“Now lass, I told you, ease into it slowly.”

Mercy stepped into her stance and released the arrow. It sailed wobbly to the ground, missing the target completely.

“Damn it, the bloody tension is off on the f’ing bow.”

She threw it as far as she could. Brynjolf laughed his hands going to his hips.

“Language my darlin’, watch the language.”

She exploded into a stream of language that would have colored any one’s ears then smiling, went to retrieve the bow.

It had slid down the rocks and landed on a flat stone pad below. Thinking nothing of it she clambered down the rocks and bent to pick up the bow.  
Brynjolf was taking his time climbing down behind her; he was getting a tad stiff in his joints, though he would never admit it. He refused to let it slow him down.  
He was the Guild Master now, not that he ever had designs on the title. No, that mantel would pass to Mercy when she was ready. Even she had her qualms about it. She preferred the life of a thief over being stuck behind a desk, minding the affairs of the prosperous Guild did not appeal to her at all.

When he finally caught up to her, dusting the dirt from his hands, he found her transfixed to the spot.  
Mercy was standing very still, staring at a black wall that hummed. Brynjolf couldn’t hear the faint sound like a bee buzzing in the distance that she could.  
Mercy stood chewing her bottom lip and walked towards the wall. Curiosity getting the better of her, as it usually did much to Brynjolf's chagrin. Her hand stretched out to touch the smoothness of it; her finger tips caressing it as she walked from one end to the other. She turned to face Brynjolf and smiled her father’s smile. Brynjolf opened his mouth to speak when he was thrown back onto the ground in front of the flat pad of stone. He rolled over, his first thoughts not for himself, but that of Mercy. Where was she?

She stood arms outstretched as a swirling mass of blue light enveloped her. Her long sandy brown hair blew back behind her as a strong wind rushed through her, around her. She was smiling and her eyes glowed blue.

_Blue like a draugr?_

Brynjolf stood and rushed towards her, trying to knock her away from whatever was holding her under its spell.  
He couldn’t reach her; it was as if some invisible wall were stopping him. The wind died down, the light disappeared and Mercy stepped forward to lend a hand to Brynjolf.

“Lass, are you alright? Are you hurt?” He turned her this way and that way, checking for injury.

Gods if she was hurt he wouldn’t know what to do.

_Did her eyes glow blue?_

She laid a cool hand on his cheek and smiled up at him.

_Her eyes are still blue like a draugrs!_

“Brynjolf, I’m fine.”

“What in blazes was that, lass? Are you sure you’re alright? Delvin and Vex will have my hide if I take you back to them injured.”

A roar could be heard in the distance, interrupting their conversation.

“Brynjolf, look at that.” Mercy stepped back from Brynjolf and pointed to the sky.

A large shape loomed overhead as it drew closer to them. Brynjolf, horrified, realized what it was as it crashed to the ground before them.

“By the gods lass, get back! It’s a dragon.”

Mercy calmly notched arrow to bow, releasing the taut string with a _thwack_ and watched as it sailed through the air to hit its mark. The dragon roared as she released a volley of arrows quicker than Brynjolf had ever seen Niruin ever do.  
Brynjolf took to the beasts head and stabbed and sliced at it, avoiding its snapping jaws. The beast shuddered heaving up then collapsing forward as it died.  
Mercy hooted and Brynjolf grinned for a moment, then regaining his senses he then grabbed hold of her by the shoulders.

“That was dangerous lass; it could have swallowed you whole.” He crushed her to his chest, holding her there, kissing the top of her head, his heart hammering in his chest and slowly he released her.

As he did a wind arose; a swirling yellow and orange light that looked like fire overtook them.  
Brynjolf yelled for Mercy to run but she stood rooted the spot. Her eyes still glowing blue. The yellow and orange light subsided and Mercy stood, glowing in the dimming light of the day.

“Mercy!” Brynjolf stared at her in disbelief.

Mercy turned away from Brynjolf and shouted. “ **Fus**!”

The ground beside them shook slightly as dust and stones flew into the air.  
Mercy turned to Brynjolf and beamed.

“Oh gods lass, what was that?”

She smiled slowly.

Her eyes changing from glowing blue back to pale blue.

 


End file.
